Forgiven?
by Chubs34
Summary: Two years. One of them ago, Amata exiled the LW. Now, she has re-opened it. She endeavors to reconcile with the LW, but...can time heal all wounds? Or does five long years give more scars than one man can heal from? Or can a Sentinel heal the wound?
1. Nothing in there for me

Two years.

Two years the Lone Wanderer, Al, had been out in the Wasteland. Two years of being shot at, disapointed, and changed. But when asked if he could choose and not go into the wastes, he said "Hell no. I love it out here. Always something to do. Besides, nothing for me back in the vault."

O

DISCLAIMER: I do not own fallout 3 it belongs to bethesda, zenimax, and all other poeple who produced it.

Ok this is my first story, so I'll try to give you a song for each chapter. Please review tell me constructive critisism please. I need it. Oh, and Al will be the main character for most of my fallout stories. I'll inform if I have a different person. Chubs out.


	2. The Rangers

chap 2 : The Rangers

song: citizen soilder by "three doors down."

Al's POV

"Three more days," I stated gruffly.

As I got out of bed, I checked the time. 9:28. _Just great now I gotta rush to get to three dog's place,_ I suddenly remembered as I reluctantly got out of bed, stripped my naughty nightwear off, placed it in my filing cabinet, and pulled out my Ranger combat armor. My face darkened as I memories flooded into my train of thought about how I obtained my favorite suit. About a year ago, I decided to loot the Statesman Hotel for fun. Probably_ some good stuff in there, may as well check it out while i'm here._ As I got on the roof, I heard more gunshots. That, and some uglies scream. Okay, they're either turning on each other, or someone had the same idea as me. I'm going with the latter. As I approached the stairway I instictively crouched down. The first thing I once I noticed reaching the top was the hundred of bodies piled around each other. _Damn, someone is very good at killing uglies, and last i checked, Sarah was at the Citadel, so she's out. _As I checked the bodies for ammo, I heard a man shout,

"Hey you! Get your ass over here before more muties come!"

Startled, I looked up to see a man in what seemed to be green combat armor apparently waving an SMG in the air. I got up, holstered my plasma rifle, and jogged over to the make-shift cover the three people had raised. Once I reached it, I vaulted over the cover, landed, and lowered myself facing the man who shouted at me.

" 'Bout damn time someone showed up. Did Reily send you?" He inquired.

"No I just decided to look around, and by the looks of things, I was late for one hell of a party." I answered with a smirk, but hidden due to my Tesla helmet.

"Yeah, you were," said someone, who, by the voice, I could tell was a woman, "and it used up all our ammo, and by looks of it, you're not carrying anything we can use," noticing the plasma weapon slung along my armored back.

"No I did have to kill a few uglies along the way, so I have a few ARs, hunting rifles, and one chinese AR, a minigun, and some ammo for all of them,"

I replied sharply, and looked over my shoulder to see said woman loading the the last of her 5mm rounds into the massive weapon.

"Shut the hell up Brick, and be glad that someone came up here."

My eyes widend at the black man's voice. _Lucas simms...poor man_. I felt a wave of sorrow at this thought. The fith day in my journey I was just about to disarm megaton's massive nuke, so I went up to see my second freind in the wasteland, Gob. Good man that ghoul. I noticed a man in a white suit and brown hat beckon to me. Interested, I walked over. He introduced himself as Mr. Burke, a name I now associate with greed, evil, and the worst traits of humanity. He told me I could have a nice warm bed inside a heavily guarded place, almost as safe as in the vault. I speculated about how nice it would be to be able to live in a vault-like place, but then my moral compass reactivated and I knew I had to tell Lucas about him. But I knew I would need proof. So i lied about agreeing to his conditions and he gave me exactly what I wanted. I told lucas on how I would disarm the bomb for free, knowing that I would never sleep if I didn't, and then mentioned on Burke. He told me that I was about to get a lesson in Wasteland Justice, and I followed him to the saloon. I listened to Lucas arresting the rat bastard, and once his back was turned, he was shot and killed. I flew into a blinding fury, and beat him down, first with my bat, and then with my fists. As I got up from the bloodied corpse, I took his suit, silenced pistol and most everything else. then I walked to Lucas's still warm corpse, and cried. He was my first freind, and really a mentor to me on my first few days. I took his hat, and left to disarm the bomb. After I was done with it, I walked back to the saloon. I bought some whiskey, and drunk myself into a stupor. When I awoke, I was in a bed. As I opened the door, I remembered what had happened the previous night. I was disgusted with myself for taking the hat, and tried to return it to his son. He refused said I could keep the hat, and informed me of his father's plan on whoever disarmed it would be allowed to live here for free. As my memory ended, I asked what their names were.

"That's Brick, the woman with the minigun,"

yeah I sorta figured that out I thought

"I'm Butcher, a medic, and that's Donovan, our engineer."

They needed a fission battery and I gave them one I found earlier in the day. We got out of the tower easily, but Brick died, and I could only grab her minigun, which she called eugene. Once we got back the their compound Reily rewarded me with a spot on the group, and their armor.

This memory lasted five minutes, and I cursed myself for losing focus.

goddamn it Al, focus. No more daydreaming.

As I left on my was to GNR studios for my interview with Three Dog, my Pip-boy beebed, and when I looked at it, it said nothing.

This fucking thing better not break. Only someone at a vault can fix one of these oversized wristwatches.

Okay, i know long ass chapter, but it sorta got your attention, right?

Oh, and for the record, anything in italics is a thought.


	3. Interview or Interrogation

Song-Indestructable-Disturbed/ I am all of me by that Sonic the Hedgehog band

As I made the long trek from Megaton to GNR studios, I saw a group point to me and say, "hey look it's that guy from the vault!"

I smiled at the recognition, waved at the group, and continued along my way. They don't know me as anything other than "Mr. 101," I'm just some guy who can kill really well. A lot of people can kill "really good" but most of them kill people not the things that try to kill them. As my smile turned back into the nuetral expression it had almost permanently taken on, I looked to the Blackhawke, a deadly accurate .44 magnum that an elderly woman gave him as a reward for bringing her both sheet music and a pre-war violin. _I could always end it with one shot. No, what am I thinking. There are always more uglies out there._

I heard a noise and instinctively unholstered my Blackwater rifle, a powerful lever-action rifle I had aqquired in Point Lookout, and pointed it toward the noise. A mole rat nonchalantly waddled out from behind a rocky outcrop, looked to me and continued on it's own agenda. Ugly things, but they are my freinds, and will come to my aid, normally to no avail but a distraction.

I reholstered the 10mm rifle, next to the Terrible shotgun, a shotgun I lifted off a raider in Evergreen Mills, one of my favorite proving grounds. I heard the very distinctive shot of a plasma rifle, and the mole rat that had been napping was reduced to a glowing green puddle of goo. Adrenaline flooded into my veins as I looked toward the source, and saw the trademark lightning flashing off an Enclave soldier's Tesla armor, a literally dead giveaway. Faster than the eye could see, I pulled my pistol out of it's holster, and took cover behind the same outcrop that had hid the oversized rodent only seconds ago. I shot at the helmet of my attacker, between the impish horns and sickly yellow eyes of the false hero. At the sixth V.A.T.S.-assisted shot his head flew off his body, blood spurting from both the head and neck of the bastard that claimed the life of my father. It took only two shots to take down the regular enclave troop, and a single round to kill their officer.

I smiled as I reloaded my firearm, needing only one and a half cylinders to take out the entire squad of the Enclave remnants. Well, that's what they call themselves, I personally call them: the ones who ran their asses away from the mobile base. I continued along my journey to GNR, and made it by 2:00pm, encountering an overlord and his minions. All in goddamn all, one hell of a day, I thought as I passed the place that me and Sarah Lyons first met. Sarah, the warrior goddess of post-apocalyptia.

O

"So Al, thank you for taking time out of your busy agenda of kicking the ass of the raiders, slavers, and other bad things that end with 'ers'"

"Naw, I only had to push my raid on fort bannister off for tomarrow. If you're listening Talon Comapny, I'm coming for _you._"

"Okay, enough with death threats! Lets get on with what the Capital wasteland wants: to know every aspect of your personality!"

"Well, I'm depressed on mondays, extastic on tuesdays, so-so on wednesdays, blood-drunk on thursdays, and on friday is one of the previous options."

"Ha! Alright, from Bill in rivet city, where are you gonna go next?"

"I'm gonna relax in Megaton for a while, then head north to answer the Outcast's distress call. May just fuck them up, let the real Brotherhood take what they found."

"Okay, from George, a ghoul in underworld, why do you not wear power armor?"

"It makes me tangible. I want people to see me as just another person, out there in the wastes, bleeding, fighting to survive. If I did wear it, it would make me a faceless invincible force of nature, everywhere that is in troube, I'm there to help. That, and the ladies like to see skin." Al said with a devious smirk on his face.

"Well, well, well. Look out Wasteland! Al's coming, and he packing a lot more than heat!" Three dog remarked, and both of them, along with the rest of listeners, laughed.

"Okay, and now im my personal question, what do fear?"

"Being betrayed. I can only have so much trust out here, and when someone breaks my turst that I placed upon them, I'm absolutely crushed."

"Woah...I thought you were gonna say 'Not a damn thing!'

"Alright, in an unsighned letter, when is your birthday?"

"Well...three weeks. Not my actual birthday, but when i came from the vault. The first time, the second was when _she_ kicked me out." Al replied coldly, his voice showing distaste when he said "she."

"Tell us more about this _she_ charachter. It sounds interesting."

"Yeah better than listening to women sing about sunbathing, right? But now lets start off: I was traversing the wastes, with my newly aqquired freind, Fawkes...


	4. Shattered

OK, this is the trouble on the homefront quest, finally

song 1st half: heartless by kanye west i think?; 2nd half (after she breaks the news) until the end by breaking benjamin/ dear agony same artist

3rd person

"Alright Fawkes, Megaton is just beyond this ridge," said Al.

"That's what you said about the last FOUR ridges," replied Fawkes, Al's newly befreinded super mutant.

"Hey, this time I'm sure, and besides, in post-apocalyptia, EVERY ridge looks the same," Al smugly stated.

As they approached and eventually got to the top, just as Al had said, there was the iconic gates of megaton.

"Hey-hey, I was right this time!" Al happily exclaimed.

"Yes, and we almost got killed twice!" Fawkes sighed.

"Hey! the first time I couldn't help, Talon company finds you no matter what, and I thought the Outcasts we asked for directions would ask first, shoot later," Al calmy replied to his 8-foot tall monstrosity, "well, wait here, I'm gonna go inform Stockholm about you."

As Al jogged off, obviously burdened by the bulky brotherhood armor, his pip-boy beeped. As he checked it, he froze. Fawkes watched this unfold, and when apparently whatever caused Al to freeze was over, he ran full speed back to his faded yellow freind.

"Is something troubling you, my freind?" Fawkes inquired.

"We're not going to Megaton right now, I just got a distress call from my freind from back in the vault." Al replied while signaling for his meta-human to follow.

"Who Is this 'freind'?"

"Amata...pretty much my girlfreind...before...dad died," Al slowly and shakily replied, tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm...sorry"

"No, don't be...I gotta stay focused...c'mon, we're going to vault 101. I gotta fix the trouble on the homefront."

They climbed the outcropping, andas they approached the unsuspecting wooden door, Al slowed down, and stared at a bent sign.  
Fawkes knew that this was one of the first things that Al had expierienced outside the vault. After Al's trip down memory lane, they continued inside the much cooler cavern, and came upon the symbolical vault door. After another short trip, he slowly advanced toward the control panel, punched in some keys, and the sirens went off, and instead of the door moving outward, indicated by the metal on the ground, it grinded backwards, a dischordal mix of the wailing sirens, and the metal on metal screeching of the 10-ton door. Fawkes put his hands on his mutated ears, the sound being unbearable, and Al stood at the control panel, arms practically limp at his sides, mouth hanging open. After the unharmonious symphony subsided, they walked to the next door, Al froze in horror, spotting the dead vault residents in pools of either their own or someone else's blood, with expressions of pain plastered on their bloodstained faces. As Al failed to clutch his armored stomach, he vomited up the mix of water, pork and beans, and mutfruit. As Al recovered himself, they started towards the door. Before they reached it, it suddenly opened, and an offecer spotted Al, not noticing fawkes, explained how things went to hell after James, Al's father, left.

"Yeah, he'd feel guilty about that if he were still alive," retorted Al, "At least i picked up a freind along the way," refrencing Fawkes, who was standing a short distance away.

"HOLY SHIT!" The officer screamed, and pulled out his pistol, and Al, like lightning, slapped it away before it could discharge.

"IT'S ALL RIGHT! He's fine, he's not gonna shoot, he's my freind," calming the panicked man.

"Are you sure?"

"YES! I can hold a gun to his head, and he to mine, and we'd have no reason to worry."

After that incident, things went rather smoothly. Even though Fawkes had to stay outside the vault door, it was no burden, it gave time for him t othink

_Does he really trust me that much? Or was he just saying that?_

Inside the vault, Al had just convinced the Overseer that they would need to open the vault, sooner or later.

"I hereby give control of the vault, to my daughter Amata. Lead it well. Now, please excuse me, I'm rather tired after all this," The Overseer announced after running to the lower levels.

Standing in the corner, unnoticed, the lone wanderer smiled.

"Thank you for helping us, after all this time outside, I almost doubted if you wouldn't just kill him. I'm so glad I was wrong."

"Amata, I would never do anything, on purpose, to hurt you."

"I know that you did everything peacefully, but you have to leave."

"W-why? Why do I...have to leave?" The lone wanderer asked, voice cracking, eyes wide open, jaw quivering.

"It'll cause too much trouble, and by the way, Happy Birthday, I think you need it more than we will," Amata replied, handing him a modified jumpsuit.

"N-no...I'm used to the radiation...you'll need it more...for when you come out...right?" Al half asked-half pleaded, head hung, as to hide his welling up tears behing the wide brim of the sheriff's hat, and pushed the suit back into her arms, and threw one last hug around her.

"Yeah...when i come out."

As Fawkes heard the heavy bangs of metal banging, he knew it was his freind, in his powered armor.

"How did it go?" Fawks asked, and the wanderer said nothing, and continued walking in a daze, slumping, toward the wooden door. Fawkes knew something was terribly wrong, and as he chased, he heard the sirens again, and as he turned around the cog-shaped door as sliding into place. When he looked back at his savior, the door was wide open, gently swinging against the wind. He walked out, and the hero of the wastes was at the bent sign. He dropped to his knees, and screamed into the heavens, as if to challenge whatever, if there is, any diety who decided it would be this way.

"NOOOO!" He seemed to scream for hours, whilst it was only seconds.

It echoed across the wasteland, and maybe, most if not all beings, turned and felt pity to not just fawkes's saivior, but one to the entire wasteland.  
Still on the ground, now in fetal position against a rock, he hung his head on his knees, and repeated the word that he had said to the entire world, in between sobs, sniffs, and moans of agony. Fawkes sat next to him and extended an arm around his comrade, unsure of how to help.

"I need you to carry me to megaton, and when you get there, wave my hat, they'll know it's okay," Al instructed, though hard to understand becuase he was still crying, fawkes understood.

It worked perfectly, though he got very menacing looks, they were not shot at. Once inside, he put Al down, and the unyeilding hero of the capital wasteland stumbled over to a padded chair, plopped down, and continued to sob, though much softer. After what would seem like an eternity for any other person, but fawkes knew what eternity felt like, so this was just a few minutes for him, the wanderer slowly advanced upstairs, grabbed a bottle of vodka, and proceeded into his room, lied down, and half drunk half creid himslef to sleep.

_May as well try to sleep myself, _fawkes thought, _I should not explore without his consent, I don't want to wear out my welcome before it's broken in. _

When fawkes woke up, he checked on Al. He, to fawkes's sheer horror, was gone. That, and his Blackehawke was gone, and one of the six bullets as well. He charged out looking for where there was a commotion. He scanned, and saw someone run into moriaty's saloon, so he checked there first. When he entered, he saw that people were more intersted in what was happening in the corner, and when he looked, he saw Gob, another of Al's freinds, crouched, and saw in the corner, Al, pointing the .44 caliber revolver directly a his right temple.

"C'mon kid, don't do this, you got so much to live for. What's bothering you so much, anyway? Why give up? Why give in?" Gob said sounding concerned, but hard to tell due to his gravely voice.

"It's not enough. It never is," Al repleid, through light sobbing, then sniffed.

"But life goes on until the end. Always remember that kid." Gob stated slowly, and let the words sink in, while clutching the barrel of the handgun, trying to pull it away from his temple, but the wanderer had a deathgrip on it. Fawkes could see Al's eyes look around, then his shoulder relaxed, and gob pulled on the gun, though he still held it, he let go, and Gob placed out of his reach.

"I've...I...I've lost my way," Al said in a hollow voice.

"but life goes on until the end." Gob repeated, in a strong, sturdy voice, then got up, and stepped back, allowing Al some room. Al lifted himself up and shuffled to his house, and lied in bed the rest of the day. Fawkes decided to get aqquainted with the citizens of megaton, so he stayed in the bar. Though everyone was tense, he would try to make freinds, or at least make it known he wasn't going to kill them. He walked up to the one who talked to the wanderer.

"So...I'm Fawkes," extending a hand in the hopes of shaking hands with his savior's savior, "and you are?"

The man flinched at his hand at first, but then met it with his own.

"I'm Gob, the late Moriarty's slave."

"So where is this 'moriarty'?"

"Rotting in a grave that's too good for him," replied a red-haired woman, "I'm Nova, by the way."

"That's for damn sure," interjected a bald man, wearing what he knew from Al to be leather armor, "I'm Jericho."

"Wait, then who killed him? Hopefully not Al..." Fawkes said.

"Naw, nobody's sure," said Jericho, "we all think it was Al, but he swears he didn't do it. Nobody wants to find and kill em though. Good Goddamned riddance."

"well it's been good talking to you. I'm not like my brethren, the brainless savages, I need to check on him now." Fawkes said, pushing up from leaning against the counter.

"If you do turn out to be like 'em, then i'll be here to put you _down_, like one of 'em," said Jericho, only half joking.

All right, finally that's done. Well enjoy, flame if you want about how some parts were cheesey, it's my damn story.


	5. Amata

_he_Alright amata finally comes out of the vault!  
song: welcome to the jungle by Gun's n Roses(after they meet up) chosen one crush 40 (before they meet up)  
Oh and if youre wondering, You listen to the song while reading. not a songfic.  
Al has his weapons in a Gears of war style setup. rifles on back pistol on side.

"Dad, it's time to open the vault. Order has been restored, everything is calm."

"Fine. but take a group of security officers, and you put a suit on over the modified jumpsuit. Just to be safe."

"Alright daddy. We'll find Al first, then maybe we can use the vault as a support shelter or something to help wastelanders."

"Though it's a bad idea, it's not my choice. As oversser of Vault 101, you have the final decision."

"I've already made it. We'll find help, bring them back, set up the station, and we'll help. Just like Al"

At this, Amata left her fther in the overseer's office, and into her room, modified jumpsuit and secruity armor peices in her arms. A few minutes later, she came out, pistol clipped to her side, baton on her left hip, and an assult rifle slung on her back. She confidently walked to the PA system, and called for the security force to come into the office. once they assembled, Amata debreifed them on what was going to happen.

"We will be leaving the vault, and going into the wasteland," as Amata spoke, not in the tones of an uncertain girl, but a strong, inspiring leader, "I ask you, not as you leader, but a fellow vault dweller, shake off your prejudices on the wastleland. It is _not_ as much of a hell as we are told to beleive. If Al could leave for almost a year, and return, not to pillage, but to answer a distress signal, and to do that without any bloodshed, then we, as a group, can survive a few weeks, maybe months, to find help, and help the wasteland in our own way: by giving someplace where food and water is unirradiated, a place that is guarded, a place a person so used to not sleeping in fear of being killed, can sleep safely. Our journey is not one into the nothing, simply being exiled, ours is one to help, just as Al has done for almost _four years. _We _will_ change the wasteland for the better, and we shall succeed!"

As they approached the massive vault door, they were given farewells by the other residents. As Amata approached her father, who was waiting by the control panel, they shared one last hug, and she pulled the lever, the alarms blared. Although some of the other officers cringed at the noise, Amata heard nothing. She was focused on what was to come. _Is he even alive? Has he succumbed to the wastes evil allure? Will he even remember me? _As these thought raced through Amata's head, she was yanked back into reality by the horrendous sound of metal screaming against metal. Even she, this time, cringed and covered her ears, along with the rest of the force. As they stepped onto the rock outside the door, all but Amata hesitated. She had waited three long years waiting for this day. She waited for the officers to catch up, and as they did she slowly opened the door, whose rusty hinges creaked loudly. While she was blinded, a dog ran acroos the horizon.

"Thank you, Mr. one-o-one, again for joining us," Three dog said happily.

"Naw most anytime, freind," Al replied.

"Alright so now on three, one...two," Al knew exactly what to do, "THREE!"

"GOODBYE, CAPITAL WASTELAND!" They both cried at once.

As Al left the building, he passed the spot where he killed his first behemoth. He rembered that day like yesterday, even though it was 3 years ago.

_"Holy shit!" Al exclaimed to Sarah, "You see the size of it's club? Must be compensating for something," He said, while nudging Sarah with his elbow. After Sarah chuckled, she replied "How can you make a joke abut that? And why didn't you grab the fat man?" Al looked taken aback, "OK, one: I couldn't lift a fat person, and two: how would that've helped at all?" "What? Oh right you're that kid from the vault. Let me explain. A fat man launches miniature nukes at the enemy. That, and the ones that died first in the wastland were the fat people. We don't have to out run them, just throw some snack cakes at their feet," She repleid, making a joke of her own. "Well, I hope to see you around. Just not like this." He said while walking towrd the GNR studios._

By the time he had finished his recollection he was already into the metro tunnels. Before he knew it, he was at the river, seperating D.C. from the rest of the wasteland. After he swam across, he heard a scream. That of some scared ghouls. As he unholstered his Blackwater rifle, he saw that they had stumbled across a yaoi guai, and that this was the same group that he saw earlier. "Someone help us!" The first ghoul screamed, just before being knocked over by the beast, but blocking with it's pool cue, which broke in the stress of the swipe. As Al used V.A.T.S. to hit the animal's legs, it turned it's ugly head toward him. Enraged from the betrayal, it completely forgot about the Ghoul, and charged Al. Unmoved, he reholstered, and pulled out his shotgun. Waiting til the last second to shoot, he moved smoothly out of the way, letting the mutant bear crumple against the concrete. After cutting some meat off what could've been Yogi bear, he sprinted to the wounded ghoul.

"Alright, broken arm and leg, with bone jutting out. Hey! Hold him down for me! This may hurt," he said to the now delirious ghoul. The other two ran and held down it's torso and injured leg. "Hold on I have a med-x," Said the ghoul holding the torso down, and handed Al the painkiller. "Thanks," Al repleid. "OK, on three, I'm going to try to pull the bone back into place, if we're lucky he's unconcious, or the med-x has kicked in, if not get ready for the worst. One...two...three!" On this he slowly pulled on it's foot. Thankfully, he was right about the ghoul being unconscious, and both the ghoul and the bone gave no resistance.  
"OK, and now for the arm." After using 3 stimpacks on the ghoul's leg, Al moved onto his left arm. Although covered in scratches, nothing was broken. As Al reached for his stimpacks he felt only 2 left. Al hesitated, and thought _I may need these later. What's one ghoul compared to me? _As soon as these thoughts were conjured into Al's brain, he quickly cast them off. _NO! Every life is worth saving! I lived for months off water I drank from sinks, fountains, and the river. I can survive a couple more hours!_ Al scowled at himself for thinking of leaving another life to die. Al grapped both stimpacks, and put one above the wound, and one below. "Ok the one on top should heal most of it, and the second should clear up the remnants, and he should wake up in a few hours, or a few minutes."  
"Uhhnnn, I can't feel my leg," the ghoul that's voice revealed it to be a woman, "why can't i feel my leg?"

"Well you shouldn't," Al replied, and noting the scared look in her eyes, added, "I gave you some med-x. You should be able to feel in a little while," he said, flashing a smile as to comfort her.

"Oh. well what about the yaoi guai?"

"Yogi over there? Dead. Well I have to go, hope you feel better. And stay out of trouble!" He added.

As Al climbed the hill that hid megaton from sight, he let out a whistle. It echoed across the wastes, and was answered by a dog's exited bark. Al waited a few seconds, and sure as the sun, Dogmeat was sprinting toward his master. In fact dogmeat was so exited, he tackled Al, and mercilessly licked his face.

"OK! Enough! Ha-ha! Stop!" Al exclaimed, all through laughter, and puching against the dog's chest. That dog was the only thing that made him truly happy. After they dog saved each other's lives at the junkyard, they become close companions. "I got a treat for you! Some yoai guai meat!" Al said, plopping the meat on a dog bowl he found. Dogmeat happily ate the meat, ad Al used this as a way to retreive his hat.  
"C'mon boy! Lets get to megaton. I'm tired," he said, just before they both heard a raider's signature battle cry, "Right after we deal with this."

They had been ambushed by some crazy men in makeshift armor. Two of the officers had been instantly killed, and the others managed to escape uninjured.  
"Two on the ridge above us! Concentrate fire! The one on the right!" Amata was trying to give orders while not panic herself. They had just left the vault, and two men had been killed already! Not quite as she had planned.

"Die die die!" One of the men screamed.

"What the hell is tha-" The same one yelled, before being tackled off his perch. When the firing stopped, she saw his throat was being ripped out by something..._it was a dog! _Amata realized. _An actual dog! _

"What the hell?" The second raider cried out. "DIE MUTT!" He yelled, jumping down, "YOU FIRST!" Another voice yelled, and the next second the raider fell down, not decapitated, but his head was blown completely off. After that one bit the dust, another one screamed in fright, "Aw shit, it's _him_!"

"Aww, you remember me. How thoughtful," the voice cooed, just before firing again, shooting the grenade, while still in his hand, blowing him to pecies, killing another, and sending the other two running.

"Nu-uh, you're not getting away!" The mysterious man said, throwing a grenade of his own, right in front of their path. They screamed, but it was cut off by the grenade's explosion, sending pieces of the raiders in front of the remaining officers, completely paralyzed at what had taken place before them. Amata threw up due to the gory scene, and after recollecting herself, as well as the oremaining officers. The silence was boken by the man whistling, and the dog rushing to what was apparently it's master.

After Amata had finally got over vomiting, she turned, and the man was three quarters of the way to what appeared to be a scrap heap. Before she could convince her men not to run back into the vault, he was already inside. She needed to thank him, so followed.

As the entered through the gates, they saw a sign that read: Al's house, please wait, I'll be with you eventually.

"Wait here," she told her guards. As she knocked on the door, she heard a robotic voice say "Just a minute!" Once the door opened she went inside. The room was very decorated. with a vault-tec bobblehead stand, with a large number of bobbleheads. behind her, a large weapon, with three miniature nukes one upside down, one standing up, and the third on it's side. below was a grognak the barbarian comic book, 30 handy flamethrower recipies, tales of a junktown jerky vendor, and other books that taught you about different skills. None two were alike. Below those were more mini-nukes, and on the top was a nuka cola truck toy. to the right of the bobblehead stand was a minigun, and a chair, to the left was a locker and two dog bowls, one with water, the other with some kind of meat.

"Why hello! My master is not here right now, but ill be here shortly, so you are trespassing, so unless you have permision, you will have to leave." the miser handy said, in a british accent.

"Well, I was his girlfreind when we were younger, so he'll probably want to see me." Amata replied.

"Oh then, wonderful! Would like something to drink in the meantime?" The robot inquired.

"Sure that would be nice." Amata politly said.

"Here you are!" It said as it floated away.

Amata decided to leave and go search this town, maybe find out where he is. As she left her men were still at the door, but where checking their weapons. She saw a large building on the other side of ton, and decided to head there. Once she arrived, she took a seat at the bar.

"Hey smoothskin, want something to drink?" A scratchy voice asked.

"Yeah I gue-AAAAIEEE!" She screamed as she saw what was talking to her. It looked like a monster, and smelled worse. "Get away from me you fucking monster!" She pushed back from the bar, landing flat on her ass. Someone laughed at what had happened and she looked over to see a nearly bald man holding his head in his hands, his body convulsing with hysterical luaghter. She looked back to the monster, who had both an angry and hurt look on him. She got up, and found a red headed woman with a scowl on her face looking at her, shaking her head in disapproval. She got up, and sat in a corner of the bar, and after a while, she tried to ask the creature about where Al was, it was polishing a cup, and looked up at her, grunted, and looked back down. She tried asking the woman about where Al was, and she answered

"Whats your name?"

"Amata. Why?"

"I don't think he'll be too happy. But I could be wrong. He nearly commited suicide couple years back, after his dad died, and leaving the vault a second time with his freind." As she said this Amata turned pale. _He looked fine when he left...I nearly killed him..._ "after a few days, he finally came out of his house. He got to drinking, and we saw him get so mad, and we've only seen that look twice. First time was after some guy named Burke killed the sheriff...he took it really hard. few days later, we hear that Tenpenny was killed, and ghouls had taken over tenpenny tower. Then we heard Al helped. Second time was after he helped out slavers. He looked God-awful. After it was broadcast on the radio, he was fuming. Guilt probably. Few days later, he's planning for some major op, he got Fawkes with him, power armor, grenades, gatling laser, so much shit, and next day he looks like he just had the best sex of his life. Then rumors go round hat someone shot up paradise falls. Traders say they heard screams, explosions, laser fire, guns, all kind of shit go off, and even Euolgy Jones was killed. Then Al walks into the bar wearing his goddamned suit!"  
After all of this, she decided to leave. They were outside the gates, when they heard a familiar voice.

"Well holy hell. Haven't seen that armor in a long time. So you finally came out."

"Oh...oh my gosh...it's you! Al!" she answered, almost crying over joy. As she started towards him, the dog turned sharply, lowered itself into a pouncing position, laid it's ears back, and bared it's teeth, and growled visiously.

"Down boy," Al said smoothly, the dog relaxing into a stitting position, but still agitated, "Where'd you get the water? Not in any vault canteen."

"I stopped by your house. Your robot gave it to me."

"Yeah I'm gonna need it back."

"Why?" Amata questioned, with a hurt expression on her face.

"Out here Amata, you earn water. You technically stole that water from me. Now give it to me."

After she looking into his eyes, she saw no joke about what he said. She threw him the water, and he pushed past her.

"Hey, Micky! Catch!" He yelled as he threw the water to man dressed in rags.

"Thank you so much! You...you're a Saint!

"Okay so now: Please get back into the vault, it's for your own safety. You alrady lost two men, and weren't out for 5 minutes." He said semi-happily, looking up uncovering his face from behind the wide brim of his hat, betraying his tone of voice, which wore a frown which she could tell meant: Please go away.

Ooh cliffhanger! If you don't like stfu. I was up till 2 am typing this, so enjoy, and no new ones till next week.


	6. No

Enjoy, sorry, I was tired last week. This is sorta the preview of this chapter, it'll be much longer, but I'll get into much deeper detail of their relationship, both Amata and Al's recounts. If you were hoping for a story where they make up, then I'm sorry.

Song:world so cold- three days grace/ land of confusion- disturbed

"Amata, what do you want?"

"I...I wanted to help the wasteland...like I promised a few years ago!" Said Amata, her voice nearly breaking, both due to Al's face, seeing him, and the ordeal she went through earlier.

"Like I said. Go back into the vault, you won't last anoher five minutes out here." Al said coldly, his voice not betraying that he as near crying as well, but from his life in the colder and harsher land he had resided in for the last five years of his life, you learn to cover up any signs of emotions, other than pain, rage, or satisfaction.

"No. Not until we help. Someway, somehow, but until then, we won't go back." Amata said, trying -but failing- to recompose herself, being so happy seeing Al, who was the mysterious man who had saved their lives!. "And when we do, you can come home. We can be together, and everything can go back to normal. Right?"

Al looked at the ground. Of course he thought about home. The comfort of the vault. The safety, the close-knit bonds between the dwellers of the high-tech bunker. Then that brought thoughts of Dad, Amata exiling him out, all the bullshit that had happened, and then how much he wanted to get rid of that. He wanted, no _needed, _to allow this to never happen to anyone else! Nobody should feel the sort of pain he has felt! He really made his decision before the question was even thought of. All the freinds he had made, the Regulators, Megaton, the Vampires of Meresti, the Brotherhood of Steel, Fawkes, Jericho, Gob, Nova, Moria Brown, Dogmeat, Sarah... his thoughts almost trailed off to the sentinel, but he returned to his original train of thought.

"No...I can't go back." Al finally replied, and he heard something fall, and realized Amata had dropped to her knees. "The wastes still need me. But, I will help you. We'll need to go west though. I know some people who might be intersted in this." He said, trying to rationalize his decision to Amata. Amata, though, was absolutely... well no word could descibe what she felt. An antagonizingl mix of despair, confusion, sadness, hurt, betrayal, and other depressive emotions, that there are still no words for. She tried to be strong, but her crudely built wall of courage, built on the misguided foundation that when Al came to help the vault in it's darkest hours, he seemed perfectly fine. This unstable wall couldn't handle the... unstoppable flood of horror, that Al could forget about what they had! She was there when he was beat up by Butch, when he failed tests, when there was something wrong, they were there for each other! In that single sentence, no just one _word_, he had crushed all of her dreams about him, returning, he running, taking her and sweeping her off her feet, them kissing passionately, having not seen each other, for years, long hard, cruel, unforgiving years!

She her emotional dam broke, flooding her pain, out her eyes. She couldn't tell in hours, minutes, days, or years had passed. In this moment, She could only think of her, Al, and what could've been.

It was hours before Amata stopped crying. By that time, the rest of the officers had went to the bar, and by foolishly selling a portion their ammo, bought a few drinks. Al almost scolded them, but remembered that vaulties needed all the help they could get. So a little trial and error wouldn't hurt. Much, that is. Al had carried Amata bridal style back inside of his house, and promptly set her on his cushioned chair. After going upstairs to set away found ammo, he grabbed some scotch from his Nuka-cola vending machine, where he kept all his drinks, and leapt over the railing, back onto the first floor. Slowly turning to the convulsing form of the woman he had dreamt about in his youth, he felt a debilitating pity. _I should've lied to her. Said yes, and later that I can't go back. No, no, no. Some lessons are better learned the hard way. Especially childish fantasies. No room for them in between the heat, radiation, killers, and other shit out there. _As he poured the volatile liquid into a cleaned glass, he held it in an offer to Amata. She looked up at the glass, then up at Al. She had calmed down considerably, but still almost vomiting in her marsh of misery. She took it, and downed the entire glass, obviously knowing the emotion sedating powers of the spirit. She grabbed the bottle of scotch, and as if she wasn't even drinking, but simply pouring it into her stomach directly, and drank the rest.

Al sighed. He was really only good at healing physical wounds. Not the best person to go to for emotional support though. He lifted her, and practically dragged her from the chair, into his bed. He laid her on the uncovered matress, and left the room, to return with his chair from his "study" which was mostly some rare weapons he had found in his lone wanderings. But realizing that he had a chair right fucking there, he sighed again, mentally slapped himself, and dragged the chair back into the study. He rolled the chair to his bed, and laid his hand upon the quivering form of his childhood love. She flinched at his touch, but relaxed after her mind registered it as touch of comfort, not of harm. He felt wave after wave of pity, each one more powerful than the last. But he no longer loved her. not after what had happened. Dogmeat whined, sensing his master's discomfort. He stood upon Al's thigh, and lovingly licked his face. Al smiled weakly, and vigourosly rubbed the husky's neck.

"Thanks, boy. C'mon. Let's get something to eat." And as if responding to the word "eat" the protective hound stepped down from Al's thigh, and trotted down the stairs. _Goddamned dog. All he thinks about is food. Just like me._ As the hero of the wastes walked down, he grabed some mole rat meat, some water, a nuka cola, and a can of pork and beans, and set their meals down. Dog meat attacked his meal, devouring it in seconds, then lapping up his water. Al ate and drank his much more slowly, his mind clouded with specualtions. _Will Amata be alright? Will she be able to stand the horrors that await us in out mission? Will I give in? _His thoughts finally gave him sleep, and for the second night in the row, he got restful sleep. More or less.

The next morning Al woke up rather peacefully. Until he remembered who he had in his bed. He groggishly stumbled up his stairs, and upon entering, Amata was in a peaceful sleep. Knowing her, she would need comfort food. So, after careful decision, he picked out some snack cakes, some wine, and set it upon the corner of the desk. Now to find the group of guards. He presumed the saloon, and made his way to the place of many a memory. Some good, most bad.

Al found the troops, all with minor hangovers, in the commons house. He sternly reprimanded them, and in the middle of it, getting to the best part, they heard a scream of terror. And who can guess who's house it came from? Yeah. Al's. He took off in a sprint, knowing the dangers of both bedroom and the study, with their array of fearsome weapons. After a series of jumps across roofs, tables, and other detrius of Megaton, Al slammed into his home. He rapidly climbed the flight of stairs, and saw that Amata had noticed the Deathclaw gauntlet that he put on the edge of his desk, and it was probably the second thing she saw, after the food he left. She was huddled in a corner, on the bed, quaking in shock, awe, and wonder at what she had seen. He placed his hands, gaining her attention, and when she took her eyes off the fearsome melee weapon, they both remembered the last time they had seen their gazes.

_Eight years ago, Butch had his hormones at an all time high, and being the narcisitic asshole that he was, had decided to try his luck on Amata. After grouping his gang, he confronted her. He used absolutely pointless lines, hoping that one would get her intersted. It was utterly fruitless, mostly becuase Al and she had been making out when they had the freee time, and Butch is really the last one you want in your pants. After his first attempts at trying to woo her, his attempts turned malevolent._

_"Listen toots, if you say yes now, then I'll be gentle. If not, then I'll just fuck you as hard as I please. So what do you say, hun?" He asked, his sadistic grin bearing his staind teeth, from stealing a few drinks from his mother._

_"Butch, i'ts never going to happen! If you do want to well...fuck...well then go fuck yourself!" She said softly, so no one could hear her profanity, but sternly, with a steely look to concrete her answer._

_"Fine then. The painful way it is." After he said this his goons grappled her roughly, and her look of defiance turned suddenly to a look that prey give to their hunters, just before they are eaten. Al was in a corner, watching this...outrage...unfold. Amata was his girlfriend, not this bastard's bitch!_

_"That's not a very good idea," he said in the icy voice of the most lethal predator, giving a warning growl to any and all trespassers on it's territory, with the face that would make a Deathclaw whimper. And as if almost giving a weather warning about the maelstrom of pain that was about to hit Butch's island of sadistic pleasure, he continued, "if you want her, you have to both get her to actually like you, and then there's still the cast iron wall of me standing in your way, so, for your sake, I'd slither back to my hole."_

_Butch flinched, muttered "shit" under his breath, and slowly turned, as if he were a person in a horror movie, facing the killer, in one last stand. Now Butch and his gang were all under five foot six, and Al was six foot 1, and had much more mass than them, but with Butch being so close to getting laid, either through rape or willing sex, he wasn't going to give up his quarry. Butch pulled out his toothpick, and advanced toward Al, minions still restraining Amata, who was in tears from her situation._

_As he raised to slash the much taller man, Al jabbed Butch's right wrist, forcing him to drop the switchblade, rendering Butch at a distinct disadvantage. As the potentially lethal weapon clinked to the ground Butch tried to retrieve it. Al was much more of a precision fighter, and kicked it away, causing it to skitter until it reached the wall. Al grappled his arch-nemesis, and lifting him back up, he punched the bully twice, first on the cheek, then his gut, and finally kneeing him, sending him crashing to the ground. Before he recovered, Al stomped his ribs, forcing him to yeild, clutching himself and writhing in pain. The other gang members let the frightened young lady go, and tried to avenge their ringleader. He focused on Paul first. The african american threw a slug, but Al jumped out of the way, and punched the man thrice in the stomach, and a fourth on his neck, rendering him useless, for the time being. Wally thought using a flurry of punches would work. Partially correct. Al had to block, and was grabbed from behind by Paul. Stunned by his recovery Al hesitated. To say this was bad, was the understatement of the century. Wally was able to, in his window of oppurtunity, managed to give Al a minor nosebleed, a busted lip, and bruises on his face, and other welts and wounds. Amata knew she had to do something but what? The switchblade! She ran to pick it up, but cut herself slightly. Carefully this time, she ran over to Paul and shoved the blade into his face._

_"Back off!" She ordered. Paul, dumstruck, released Al. Completely pissed, Al unleashed his gale force fury right into Wally's chest and face. Giving a right hook, wally stumbled backward. Al used a running punch to get him flat on his ass, and, to put it bluntly, beat the shit out of him. Turning to Paul, who he had more patience for, simply wanting to be accepted, being the only black person in the vault, was given a powerful punch to the gut. It hurt, but nothing was broken. The other two, not so lucky. They turned to one another, and went back to Al's. Once Al was fixed up, they held each other in their arms, kissing every once in a while._

As their link memory ended, they shared a touching moment. Amata had calmed down considerably. After Al explained the gaunlet to her, she was still fearful, but understood it. She ate her meal, Al drank some water, and once he was done reloading, they went off. after gathering the gaurds, they set out.

"Are you sure he's not just leading us off somewhere to kill us?" One of the officers asked.

"God no! I think that when we talked, he could only remember the bad things. I think he'll warm up eventually." Amata concluded, hoping that she was right.

Al had decided not to talk. Amata seemed fine, with whatever deduction she had thought of, and he wanted to keep it that way. Less guilt, and everything in the wasteland wouldn't hear her crying. Crying meant weakness, weakness meant an easy meal. And an easy meal is rare in the wastes. A very nice change from the regular standard of foraging.

After an short walk past a shopping mart, they came across a river. They were rather reluctant, knowing it was irrdiated, and believing that even one rad would kill you.

"We're not swimming," Al said before turning right, Dogmeat in tow. The others followed, uneasy becuase of the looming weak buildings, threatening to crumble at anytime. Al sighed in dissapointment. _They've managed to stay up this long_. _Why not a little longer?_

"Probably not much farther to the Citadel. Couple hundred of yards, maybe a mile." Al said, his face showing no true concern.

It was there in a mile. Once they got to the gate, they were told to stop. Except Al, who was let in like he owned the place.

"Wait! Where are you going!" Amata cried, hating to see him walk off, like he did years ago.

"To talk to the council about this idea!" He called back.

Inside the Citadel, he saw the initiates training. Disgusting was the one word that could describe their training regiment. Three were firing off hundreds of rounds, others boxing, others doing push-ups. _They'll never be ready at this rate_ Al thought. He would have a talk with Gunny, or take over training entirely. He'd make them the best, using the three things that he had to learn: Ammo conservation, saving up stimpaks, and combat efficiency.

As he passed into the lab, his pissed off mood, worsened by the initiates, started by Amata, was momentarily forgotten, when he saw Sarah, his warrior-goddess.

"Hey. You look like you seen combat. Sit down and talk with me." She said showing her knowing smirk, desperately trying to hide her burning desire to be close to Al.

"Sorry, I have to propose a "port in the storm" Idea to the Council. Maybe later, and if it works, the Pride can lead the first caravans." He said, showing his own calm smile, dissapointed but resolute in his task. As they walked away, Sarah stole a backwards glance.

Okay that's f***ing it! there's your chapter! Took an assload of time. If you're wondering what's with Sarah and Al, that's another story I';ll write.


	7. Trouble just outside the homefront

Okay, here it is! May or may not be the ending. I'm really sorry for the wait, I procastinated my ass off. Without further adue, the latest chapter of "forgiven?"  
Song: !0 years-wasteland

"I have an oppurtunity in mind for a foward base in the western part of the Wasteland. It is easily defendable, can garrison a score of soilders, has a limitless supply of rations, and can be used as a checkpoint for water caravans, and doubles as a shelter for Wasteland refugees." Al stated, using a vast number of military words, as to make his idea seem more preferable. He hoped it would, not for Amata's sake, but for the good of the Wastes.

"Hmm...how long would this take? We are still deploying troops onto the wreckage of the battle of the Enclave's mobile base, and need those troops to hold other so called 'Ports in the storm' such as the Washington monument." Said Scribe Jameson. He did trust the young man, but was an outsider, so this could be a trap. Or, in his opinion it could be. Elder Lyons was much more open to Al, knowing his potential.

"I believe that Al has a point. It would be an outstanding way to have troops on long times in the western half, and because of the possibilities for water caravan rally point, I approve of this plan." Elder Lyons officialy stated. Even though Jameson had not gotten into the subject much to point out any flaws, knowing Al, this was a well though-out plan. "We will send the Pride on the first run to prepare the firebase for the caravans. By the way, where exactly is this?"

"Vault 101. They had recently opened the door to do just the plan I had suggested."

Sarah felt uneasy. She knew of Al's former vault dweller Amata, and how much he had adored her. Would he run back into her arms? Just abandon the Wastes, which he had wokred so hard to change, and leave the rest of the Brotherhood without a major asset, other than Liberty Prime, who was completely useless. Leave Megaton, Rivet city, the Citadel, his brothers-in-arms, and...her. She hated that she, one of the few sentinels in the entire world, could not ask a wastelander about a trivial thing. But, she knew there were other people out there, other philanthropists such as Al, and maybe people like him.

"Yes, Father, we will succeed in our latest mission. PRIDE! Assemble whatever you need and we'll meet in the courtyard. Time to stretch out our legs!" Sarah barked to the rest of her elite squad.

Amata was, to say the least, uneasy. He had not come back out for hours, and was completely in the dark on how their meeting was going. Would the idea be in their favor? She eventually slumped against a wall, and fell into the warm, cozy blanket of sleep. She was rudely awoken by a fingerless glove, roughly shaking her shoulder. She snapped up to who would wake her up like she had napped during a test.

"Al! How..how did it go?"

"Fine. We are about to head back to the vault. Care to join us?"

"Us?"

"The rest of the squad I'm elisted in." He answered, flicking his head to the armored people, with very intimidating weapons. There was also a helmetless woman, who AL's dog had stood up against her, paws on the lower part of the armor. Why the husky did this, she didn't know. But the woman vigorously rubbed the hound, happy to see it also. Al knew why though. He was happy so see her, and being the "pack leader" Dogmeat followed suit. They set off, hoping to make the vault by daybreak.

"H-h-how i-is it so c-cold?"

"The sand doesn't trap heat in well, so is let off easily at night, when there's no sunlight to heat it."

"Damn, smart, precise, and funny. This guy's a one man army!" Said one of Al's squadmates, voice disorted because of the helmet.

"No, I'm just a one man sqaud. I'm an army when I have Fawkes and Dogmat, or you guys." Al said, at his own expense.

"Naw! I saw you take down fort bannister _alone!_ Your a whoopass machine!"

"Looks like you got a stalker!"

"What if there was a guy even _more_ badass than Al?"

"Badass, goodass, I'm the guy with the guns!" Al called back, making the group roar with laughter. Amata didn't really like the joke, but gave a chuckle anyway. Better to keep realtions freindly. They passed the supermart, and still no hostile encounters. This may go better than Amata originally thought!

After the banter, the large group trudged on. They were all tired, but were resolute in their task of utmost importance. They all wanted to stay up though. The wasteland at night was...beautiful. The moonlight over the sand dunes gave it a foreboding yet enticing sense.

They walked into a deep dune. Al suddenly halted walking, and the rest followed suit.

"Awww shit!" He spat, cursing himself for not seeing it sooner.

"What is it?" Said a female voice. Sarah.

"Anyone else smell it?" Al said in a flat, mundane voice.

"It wasn't me!"

"He means the trap we just walked into." Once again Sarah. The very second she said that, gunfire opened hell upon them. Al was ready, and threw a few grenades and shot suppresing fire in order to not be overwhelmed. The Pride took a little more time, but were still combat effective. They fired to kill, and managed to kill 4 of the people that had the same armor as Al, but was obsidian in color. The battle was over quickly, and Amata was scared. The aggresors were unskilled, and were easily taken down. Almost calmly, Al fired volley after volley, seeming to take no hits. His suppresing fire worked perfectly. They were now seperated, and without the cover of their comrades, were ripe for death's cold, harsh, black harvest.

The mangled corpse of their doomed attackers lay at the Pride's feet. Their deep crimson blood was artistic and repulsive as it stained the sand, bathed in moonlight. Their limbs, ripped from their owners, lay, still oozing blood, vainly trying to clot the wound, as nature intended. Their armor was blown off in some portions, and through it their shredded tissues shone in the luminous night. Ther entrails splattered where they lie. The buzzards were already overhead, cawing in anticipation for their meal.

Amata nearly vomited her own entrails, and fainted. When she awoke, they were inside a bulding. It was dark, and the few sources of light were through long-shatttered windows, and the light of the pip-boys. Al was kneeling beside her, jabbing a stimpak into her chest. She cried out in pain. He look disgusted. She looked away.

"Sorry, you're probably not used to stimpaks...I understand."

"I know...apology accepted," She said, smiling.

They finally made it to the vault. Upon arriving, they were given a warm welcome. At least, for those not clad in cold metal. Amata and what was left of the gaurds were welcomed back, people searched for Al, but was nowhere to be seen.

"We're going to be needing help setting up a defense perimiter." Said Gallows, a member in the Lyon's Pride.

"Fine. We will help you, but make sure you protect us at all costs!" Said the former Overseer.

"Daddy! Please, take care, we really don't need troulbe right now. And where is Al?"

"I dunno, outside?"

"Yeah, he just propped up against a wall. Not sure why."

"Daddy, come on, I want you to see him."

"Fine, but only for a little while."

Once they exited the ancient wooden door, both Al and Sarah were outside. Amata was scared, but they were only talking. She sighed in relief. The next moment was hell. They heard a shot crack the air.

"SNIPER!" Al called out, taking cover behind a rocky outcrop.

"SHIT!" Sarah exclaimed, taking similar position as Al had.

"DADDY!" Blood gushed out of a woundon his shoulder, even though he had clutched it. Al had finally picked off the sniper, though rather sloppy due to his suprise. The damage was done. The former Overseer was carried back into the vault.

"Al...come here...," Al did as he said, honoring a probable deathwish, "I'm so sorry...I got carried away...can you frgive me?" he said weakly.

Al pondered this. If it were not for him, Al would have never met his friends of the Wastes.

"Yeah, old man...I can."

Okay end chapter. I'm sorry it took so long, after the last one, I was so fucking tired. The next chater will be the last one.  
Chubs out


	8. Endgame

Okay third chapter. enjoy. I am EXTREMELY sorry for the horrible quality of the last chapter. But i did make up for it with a memorable quote, and a lucid description of the aftermath of a battle. By the way, I now realize that my "time lapse" markers are deleted by the stupid thing. I'm now using "O" as the thing for a time lapse.

song: Brotherhood of steel theme (beginning) I will not bow, breaking benjamin, middle (The battle); I dont care, by apocylyptia (after battle).

"All right, Pride! Let's get set up and go home!" Barked Sarah, satisfied with the mission's progress. Everything was going as planned. Get to the vault, set up it's defenses, go back to the citadel and the rest would take care of itself. The vault in fact _did_ have a bottleneck point, an outside vantage point, making the defense of the main entrance _very_ easy. She couldn't help but smile. _The messiah leads his people well once again_.

"I'm glad you can forgive me...even after all i had done to you...the prejudice...why? Why can you forgive me?" Said Alfonse. He had been patched up rather well by Al, whose medical expierience was in his blood. After all, his father had helped _deliver_ him from his mother's womb.

"Because, if it were not for you, this hell would remain the same. I would be in the vault, doing whatever the hell my job was, raising a kid, but my life would be mundane. Out here, I'm truly making a difference. I have helped one of the biggest power cripple the most powerful orginazation in our time! I've saved captives from a fate worse than death! All of this would never have happened if you hadn't banished me! How could I not thank you, much less forgive you?" Happily replied Al, who had wanted to say that for years. Now that he had the chance, he felt a thousand times better.

"Thank you. Being off the reins, has really put things into proportions...I finally saw how far I had descended into my own desire to fulfill my role."

"You get some rest. Your shoulder should be better by the time you wake up."

"I'm sorry I doubted you, Al."

"I understand your point of view. It must've been overwhelming."

"And by the way, you were supposed to be the vault's preacher."

"Oh yeah...and to think, I'm an athiest!"

O

"So, Al, do you think that if we can rebuild civiliaztion, there can be world peace?"

"Of course. But...will the ends justify the means?"

"What?"

"Back then, I would've asked: How much land do you need? How many species must go extinct without reason, just to feed the people, that are only alive because of oil? I know exactly why. You, us, _we_ are our own disease. Our own virus. Our own scourge Our own plague. To everything around us, we are a swarm, ravaging land, feasting upon the flesh of animals, just to quench our own self proclaimed 'ownership' of our planet. And even to it, we are a parasite. We suck away at it's blood, it's oils, we eat it's resources, slowly carving away at it's integrity, until it dies, and we move onto another world, and the cycle repeats. That is why your world is corrupt. You cannot work things out. You are too zealous to step down from you legde, even if it costs thousands of lives. You destroy what you don't understand. You fear it. What you cannot assimilate, you discrimate against, until it goes away, or it does assimilate, leaving you with an air of comfort."

"Damn...that was deep."

"And fuckin' cryptic! What the hell?"

"Mondays."

O

After a while, and a good bit of coaxing the vault dwellers to help out with the fortifications, Amata invited Al into the Overseer's office. Probably just a congrats on a job well done. When he arrived, which was quite a while, enjoying the chemically clean aroma of the vault's filtered air, and a trip to Mr. Brotch's class to see if he really did put a "save your teacher" question on the G.O.A.T., he finally arrived in the office. Such memories this place holds. Opening the secret tunnel to the vault's door, convincing Alfonse that they wouldn't last much longer. Good times, good times. Sorta.

"Amata, you wanted me?" After saying this, the automatic doors closed. This minorly startled Al, but remebered how fast those damn things closed.

"Yes, I did. I can't believe you forgave my father. Not only that, but _thanked_ him. I don't see how you can survive out there, much less make jokes about it."

"Well, missy, I make said 'jokes' to stay sane. I know it's strange, but if you think long enough, it'll make sense. Eventually." He added.

"Hmm. Well I just wanted to say tha-"

"AL! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! THERE ARE SOME OUTCASTS THAT JUST CAME IN! IT'S A FUCKIN' CHARLIE FOXTROT! HURRY!" A voice from Al's Pipboy yelled, distorted from static, but clear enough to send Al into a panic!

"What does 'Charlie foxtrot' mean?"

"Clusterfuck! Ah shit!" He exclaimed as he pivoted to run toward the door. But, it was locked. "What the hell? Amata...let me the hell out of here!"

"Please stay! I don't want you to die! Please stay! We can be together! Please, I beg of you Al!" Amata cried. She only had the most benevolent intentions for Al. For the rest of Al's squad, not so much.

"AMATA! LISTEN TO YOURSELF! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO RISK THEIR LIVES? THE ENTIRE VAULT!"

O

The fight was a hell like no other. The Outcasts had, somehow and for reasons unknown, had executed a plan to invade the vault and make it a new base, as Al had obliterated Fort Independence. Both parties were in the right place, but at the wrong time. The Pride had not yet finished putting up barricades, but the natural bottleneck point had kept them at bay. But it came with a drawback. They had much more space to move and hide. Inside the cavern, they didn't. They had already suffered injuries, but kept fighting. But this was an even fight. The Pride with both skill and cover, the Outcasts with numbers and elbow room. The laser blasts, from either of the mortal enemies' weapons, was heating up the air to unbearable tempuatures. Especially if you wore insulative power armor. But, out of sheer power of will, they continued fighting. They would not bow down to the traitors! This was their base! They bled to set it up!

"Keep it up Pride! They bleed just like everything else! And if it bleeds, we can kill it!" Sarah screamed, rallying her men through the hellfire of red beams, cutting the air. The heavy weapons specialist reloaded his massive gatling laser, and stepped out of cover, with a newfound courage, gave a bonechilling warcry, and opened his own rain of fire and brimstone upon anything unfortunate enough to be in front of it. He stopped to check if he killed anything. Fatal mistake. His recoiled as a laser hit his armor's shoulder, then several other times as he was continously hit.

He staggered backwards, and fell over. The shots stopped. Was he dead?

"NO! I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU FUCKERS!" Sarah screamed. They killed him! One of her men! And she could do nothing to stop them! She grapped a plasma grenade from her side, and flung it at the oncoming ebony and crimson armored bastards. With the luck of a master poker champion, it landed in the doorway. Bingo. It detonated, sending a wave of indescribably hot plamsa to assail the poor bastards that were caught within it's range. If they weren't dead, they were going to think twice before attacking again.

"GRAB HIM! QUICKLY!" They dragged their comrade into a well covered corner, and began assesing his vitals.

"HE'S ALIVE!"

"Thank god. AL WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" Sarah screeched into her comm link, completely pissed off.

He was in for some deep shit. 'Nuff said.

O

Al was haing his own equally, perhaps even more, frustrating problems with Amata. She had gone crazy out of love on him, and had locked him in, away from the battle that he had been summoned to. He was caught between gently persuading the protective girl, and using good 'ol fashioned shotgun diplomacy. He had tried to reason with her, but his attempts were fruitless. She would not budge from her position. Then he had an idea.

"Amata," He said, slowly pulling out his six-shooter, "I understand what you are going through. Not wanting to let someone go, but needing to do it, because you know it's right. Amata, if I let them die, I'll never forgive myself. Please, I promise I'll come back. Just let me go. You know it's for the best."

"Well...no! Al, I don't want to lose you again!" She said, through bitter tears. She didn't want to watch him go away, leaving her wondering if he would be alive when she looked for him.

"Amata, I'll lose _myself_ if I can't help them. I made a vow to help, and I intend to keep it. Now if you don't let me go, I may not be able to recover from this." He stated, raising his pistol to level at his right temple. He would kill himself if he couldn't help them!

_He'll never do that...but...that look...oh god, he would do it!_

"If you kill yourself, I'll end my own existence, just to be with you."

Al sighed. This was a waste of time! He may as well whoop her sorry ass now and be done with it! No, no, no! Continue to coax her to his own will! He felt like he had the devil and the angel standing on his shoulder, telling him what to do. He sighed. He knew damn well he coudln't dare harm her, on purpose, and he wouldn't start now.

O

The shocking retaliation left a small window for a rest. Most of the Pride was reloading, repairing, and looting from the suprise attackers, or the ones that were close enough without getting shot at. The others were checking their dear comrade for any serious wounds. This was not going according to plan. They would need more time to prepare, setting up an outside watch would be best, as the warning would be well welcomed. Sarah stood in her own position, knowing that the slightest diversion could result in disater. She knew this all too well.

"Where is that son of a bitch?"

"I think he went up to the Amata's office..."

"Yeah he did say something like that..."

Sarah was shocked. Was he...NO! He would never! Not after what happened the last time! Would he? In her desperate thoughts, she was distracted. Huge fucking mistake. She heard the telltale sound of a laser rifle, and yelled a warning. The chaos had started again. The Pride quickly took up highly defensive postions, and waited for the opposition to run out of ammo. The air glew a brillient red as the deadly beams burned the very air as they race past the places the Pride was hiding.

"DAMN IT! My gun!" Yelled one member as an arc of light hit her sinper rifle, breaking it in half, well beyond repair. She pulled out a petite 10mm, and held it at the ready. Her trusty scope had killed hundreds, maybe thousands of uglies, and the poor bastard that broke it was going to pay. Dearly.

O

Al was running out of time. He knew that the barricades weren't ready, the Pride didn't know the area too well, but the Outcasts did. They had the homefield advantage. Then it hit him.

"Amata, I don't know what came over me. I now know that you're only trying to protect me. If a few people I really don't know have to die for us to be together, then so be it!"

"You...you mean it? Really really mean it?"

"Of course! Why would I lie to the one girl that only does what's best for me?"

Amata ran into his open arms. She looked into his rich brown eyes. He looked into her glistening sage eyes. They held this for seconds, minutes, hours, oh what did Amata care? She finally had her man in her arms, and she in his. Al wore a warm, fluffy smile. His lower lip was trembling in serene joy. She could tell he was happier than he had been in a very, _very_ long time. Their lips met. Amata was filled with an overpowering pleasure, and it grew by the second. Her knees grew weak, and she almost fell, if it were not for Al's vice-like grip. He held her up, leaning over her. She moaned into his mouth. He smiled. Exactly what he wanted. He lifted her, and held her entirely above the ground. His black goatee tickled her chin.

His hands started to caress her hips. She moaned even louder, and started shaking from his firm yet gentle touch. He redoubled his efforts, and she clutched his back harder. He ignored her nails digging into his back. He had to get this just right. He pressed his body even closer. She gasped. Amata could feel something hard press against her crotch. Al smiled, still keeping his lips plastered against hers. That, and the crotch plate of his combat armor. He needed to hurry. He had to get this over with.

O

They may as well have killed themselves. The pride was no longer so prideful. They had been pushed back to the vault door, and had some better cover, but weren't relieved. They were the Pride! But they hadn't been ready! They would _never_ give up though.

"GOD-FUCKING-DAMN IT!" Sarah yelled. Nothing good could happen! If they were to charge, they would lose members. If they retreated, they put the vault's residents in danger. If they stoof there, they could have their own security force make a defense, but it would only dely the inevitable. The outcasts would win. There would be many casualties, but the Pride could win this as well. But which path to take?

O

Al ran his hands over her smooth curves. Then, in her ectasy, she was distracted. NOW! Al swiped the skeleton key from Amata, and placed her on the desk. He dashed to the door, and she sat there, confused. One second she was being pleasured by the person that she pleasured herself over, now she was sitting on her desk, cold, alone, and betrayed.

Al's plan was a complete sucsess. He had seduced Amata, swiped the key, and was now vaulting over the rails to get to the bottom floor. He hit hard, but kept going. He had to save the Pride! He had to save Sarah!

O

They were almost done. Just a little more. Just a little more time! Then the door behind them opened. She looked, and saw form that she needed: Al and his shotgun. He saw the hopeless situation, and opened the scatter of his short-range monster. He took on the march of a soldier. He was hit, staggered, but continued on, a new fire in his eyes. He holstered it, then pulled out a weapon that, in his hands, would decimate any opposing force: His Gatling laser, Vengeance.

He smiled poisonously, and revved it up. The barrel whirred, and opened up it's crimson tidal wave. It borke weapons, pierced armor, and shredded flesh. After all it's charge was depleted, he lowered it, it's tip still smoking. Sarah looked out onto the damage. And almost puked. The smell of burned flesh hit her. The sight of the disembowled bodies, their rended flesh, their broken and charred bones. It was glorious. To a phycopath's eyes.

He walked upon one of them. He looked pitifully, raised his heavy boot, and slammed it down upon the outcast that was still alive. Or was, atleast.

He turned, and was hit to the ground. Stunned, he looked at who it was. Sarah! Why?

"YOU BASTARD! We _heard_ you groping that...that...whore! I heard you make her moan!" She seethed her rage at Al. He checked his comm. It was on. He lay there, absorbing her fury. "JUST STAY AWAY FROM THE CITADEL!" She ended, walking out on him. "C'MON PRIDE! Accept _you,"_ She said coldly. Al stood up, and promptly dropped to his knees, sitting on them, a pathetic position for such a famous hero. Amata, after crying herslef, walked over. She heard him saying one phrase over and over: I'm sorry, Sarah.

She put her hand on his shouder. He looked at whose hand it was. He stood up, tears dripping onto the ground from his rich brown eyes.

"Now...now we can be together...I knew she would only hurt you. The stupid blonde."

"You...n-never...e-ever...CALL HER THAT! YOU GODDAMNED BITCH! WHY? YOU'VE CAUSED ME SO MUCH TORMENT! SUCH PAIN! I'VE TRIED SO HARD TO MAKE IT THROUGH MY LIFE! BUT, ALWAYS IN MY WAY IS YOU! JUST DON'T DENY IT! DEAL WITH IT! YOU WHORE! YOU'VE BEEN TRYING TO BREAK ME TO YOUR WILL FROM THE BEGINNING OF ALL THIS! JUST LEAVE _US_ ALL BEHIND!"

"H-how...can you say that? After all I've done for you? I gave you your first pistol! Don't you care about any of that?"

"Amata, I wouldn't care if you dead or still alive! You weren't there for me! She was! Now I have another problem to fix!"

O

Amata cried out on the sands, her hot tears making the sands have moitsure other than blood. after Al's unwavered rage, he ran off. A short time later, so did she, just to see if he had wanted to test her. He wasn't.

"Are you alright?" Asked a staticy voice. She looked up. A person in dark green armor was looking down at her, helmet off. His face...almost like Al's...ecept that he had his hair differently, and no beard. She always hated that thing...

"No..."

"Do you need anything?"

"Yeah...my Al"

"Him? I know how to get him for you."

"How?"

"You know Sarah? His crush? Well he likes her because she helps the wasteland."

"That's what I'm doing!"

"No, she does it with guns. You join us, you'll be ten times better at handling a gun better than she ever was! And you'll have better armor, food, weapons, everything! Just take my hand, my dear, and all your problems will go away." He said benevolently, but his means weren't exactly so. The vault was purely human...perfect for the Enclave...as a new base, for recruiting! He would be promoted to Hellfire trooper for this!

She took his armored hand.

O

Okay, that's it. I had alot of fun wrting this, and another few stories with be set up from this.  
Chubs out.


	9. HELLO!

Okay, that the fuck do you people NOT understand about "Complete?"

I see more and more views on this, the sequel's up! Just go on my profile! Go! What are you here for!


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